Martin and Chris Parsons
by nature of things
Summary: Forgive me for re-publishing another story. I put a couple of them out too quickly while in the flush of re-imagining stories about my favorite show of all time. I didn't give enough of a reason for Chris to be so loyal to Martin. Hope you enjoy this latest effort


As usual, Doc Martin belongs to Buffalo Pictures. I just like to play with the characters. The friendship between Martin and Chris has never been explained so here is my idea of how it happened.

Martin and Chris Parsons

Martin Christopher Ellingham was a tall, thin, rather odd looking young man. Short, neat haircut, big ears, full lips, always expensively dressed in bespoke suits, silk ties and handmade shoes. Odd apparel for a student at one of UK's most prestigious medical schools. Instead of living in a dorm with other students, he lived alone in a spacious and tastefully furnished flat and owned an expensive automobile. It was rumored that he played the piano, too. If all that wasn't enough to make him stand out, he was painfully shy and covered it up by assuming an arrogant and condescending attitude toward the other students. And, he was by far the most brilliant student in their year. The others in his year knew it and respected his abilities but detested his manners.

Needless to say, he found it difficult to make friends. He'd had a traumatic childhood – unloved and even abused by both parents – so he found it difficult to form relationships with other people.

He watched with envy disguised as contempt the easy, friendly way some of the others students acted. They didn't have his intelligence or financial advantages but they had something else – they were comfortable in their own skins and their place in the world.

One of the men he noticed the most was named Chris Parsons. He freely admitted that he came from a working-class background and that he was there on scholarship. His clothes were unremarkable and books were bought used. But he was friendly, outgoing, witty, possessed unremarkable features, his figure tended to plumpness and was intelligent enough for Martin to respect. Chris knew Martin by sight and reputation. He had no desire to know him better. Arrogant sod!

But, Chris fell in love (or lust would be a better description) with a totally unsuitable girl who liked to party where drugs and drinks were in plentiful supply. Chris started going with her and the inevitable happened.

Martin was, in addition to everything else, very observant. He and Chris had been partnered several times in the lab and on some papers so when he didn't show up, Martin had to carry to whole load. He saw him around the campus looking ill and hungover, usually with his girlfriend, either loudly arguing or snogging. And he smelled of cannabis all the time.

She repeatedly demanded money, knowing that Chris didn't have it to give her. That led to Chris to make an even bigger mistake. He borrowed money from an unsavory character whose methods of collecting monies due to him could be very persuasive – and dangerous. In spite of buying her lavish gifts and more drugs, she grew bored and dumped him in a very public and cruel way. The words dumpy and boring were used.

The next evening, Martin found him in a secluded stairwell, weeping, disheveled, drunk and smelling of vomit. Sneering, he started to step over him when Chris groaned and threw up again all down the front of his clothes.

"Bugger!" Thought Martin and very nearly left him there. But, his instinctive desire to help people in need of medical assistance overcame his disgust.

Martin slapped his face and said, "Can you stand?" He asked again louder. "I said, can you stand?" When the only response was another groan, Martin put his books on the stair and pulled the sodden mess to his feet.

Chris made a pitiful picture. Martin thought, "Well, I want to be a surgeon so I'll deal with worse than this in emergency rooms."

"Come along! Try to help yourself at least a little! God! Sit there while I get a taxi. You don't want to be seen like this." He hurried to the closest street to find a taxi.

"Come help me and I'll give you an extra quid. All right, two extra quid. Just come along." He told the driver.

Soon, they were practically carrying Chris into Martin's flat and dumped him on the sofa.

The taxi driver was paid and left chuckling. "Toffee nosed prats!"

Wearing rubber gloves, Martin stripped off the messy clothes and covered his guest with a blanket, hoping there wouldn't be vomit, or worse, on the floor in the morning. He put the clothes in the washing machine, then went to his bedroom to study in peace, trying to ignore the snores coming from the sleeping guest.

He was in the kitchen squeezing fresh orange juice when he heard a moan so hurried to check on his guest. Chris had rolled off the sofa and was in a tangled heap on the rug.

"Chris. Chris! Can you hear me? Can you sit up?" Martin demanded.

"What? Where…?" Chris groaned a response.

"It's Martin Ellingham. You're in my apartment. Can you sit up or do you need my help?"

Chris looked blearily in his direction, smacked dry lips and burped.

"God! That's disgusting! Here, take my hand and I'll get you to the loo. You stink!" Martin said furiously.

"Well, there's a simple answer to that mate. Don't breathe through your nose." Was the flippant reply. And a juicy sounding and foul-smelling fart was added to the atmosphere

Scowling furiously, Martin said, "Cover yourself with the blanket and I'll help you to the lavatory. You're dehydrated so drink some water. I've laid out fresh towels, a new tooth brush and a bathrobe. Your clothes are in the dryer and breakfast will be ready when you're finished."

"I'm naked!" exclaimed Chris.

"You vomited all over your clothes and it soaked through your undergarments. I didn't want it smearing all over my sofa so removed them along with the rest." Was Martin's sneered answer.

Stunned, Chris just stared at the closed door. Later, he followed his nose to the kitchen looking for coffee.

Without speaking, Martin poured fresh orange juice and placed toast and an omelet on the table along with a pot of much needed hot coffee. There was no bacon in Martin's house. When Chris didn't speak or react, Martin said in his trade mark style of sarcasm, "You're welcome."

His guest, who looked much better and now smelled of soap and toothpaste, started and gave a rueful grin. "Thanks mate. But I don't think I can eat that."

"Of course you can. You need food to settle your stomach. You're probably still dehydrated so start with this juice. And here's some Paracetamol." Martin ordered and followed with, "You obviously have a low tolerance for alcohol. You shouldn't drink." and left the room to give Chris privacy to plow his way through the meal. Martin went to clean the loo expecting it to be a mess but, to his surprise, Chris had left it spotless. Returning to the kitchen, he said, "Your clothes will be dry soon enough. "Are you going to continue with this stupid behavior? Or are you going to pull yourself together and continue with your studies? You must have fallen behind." Martin asked.

Chris rubbed his hand over his head (a habit he would repeat many times over the years), sighed and asked dispiritedly, "Why should you care? I'm nothing to you."

"Correct, you're nothing to me except for your intelligence and your ability to be a good doctor. I'm interested in that. Your reports are some of the most well written in our classes." Was the unexpected answer

"Well, that's a turn-up." Was Chris's surprised response.

Martin just sat staring at him, waiting for a more satisfactory answer.

"If you must know, I'm thinking of quitting. God! I've really messed up! This will kill my folks." Chris moaned.

"Nonsense! You've acted like an idiot but just put some effort into it and you'll soon be alright." Said the man who found learning as easy as most people found breathing.

Chris looked uncomfortable and embarrassed.

Tactless Martin demanded, "What?!"

"Look mate, it's not that easy. Yes, I can catch up but that's not my only problem. You've no idea…" Moaned Chris.

Curiously, Martin asked, "Why do you want to be a doctor? Are there doctors in your family?" And led the way to the lounge.

"No, no. I'm the first in my family to attend uni. It's always been my dream to be a GP. I like helping people. Diarrhea, runny noses, bunions – fun things like that. How about you?" Chris sank into a comfortable armchair as he spoke.

"All the men in my family are surgeons. I never even thought of doing anything else." Martin studied the defeated looking man and, with genuine curiosity, asked, "What don't I have an idea about? What else have you done?"

Chris rubbed his hand over his head again and studied his host. For the first time in their limited acquaintance, Martin didn't act haughty and arrogant and, somehow, he knew this odd person could be trusted. "I borrowed money from a man called Nigel Lake. Let's just say that the interest rate on his loans is higher than normal. Now I owe three times what I borrowed. I've no choice but to leave. Somehow, I've got to pay it back or he'll go after my family. They sure don't have it and I've been told that he can be violent. I've been incredibly stupid."

Without replying, Martin left the room and returned with Chris's clean clothes. "Here, you can dress in the bedroom. I've got to think about this."

"No, you don't. Not your problem, mate." Said Chris. When he returned to the lounge, he intended to thank Martin and leave.

"I can help you. Not with your foolishness over that girl but with your studies and the monetary problem. You won't have to quit and deprive the world of a good doctor or disappoint your family. Interested?" Martin said calmly.

Chris was naturally suspicious of such an unexpected offer and asked, "And what would I have to do to pay you back? If you're looking for a willing slave or something else…"

Shocked, Martin replied, "Of course not! Why in the world would you think such a thing?"

"Then why? We're not friends. You don't even know me, really." Chris was still puzzled.

Martin was stumped for a moment then answered slowly. "I'm not exactly sure. We've worked on lab projects together and, as I said, I find you to be very capable and intelligent. And intuitive which is rare. You want to be a doctor which is good and gives us something in common. The one thing that my family has given me is money. I can well afford to help you. You needn't worry about repaying the loan until we finish school and are established in our careers. Is that a good enough reason? Because, if it's not, then leave school and be done with it."

Startled, Chris stared at his host. Never in his or his mate's wildest dreams would they guess that the stuck-up Martin would make an offer like that. "I don't know. Are you sure you want to?"

"I offered to do so didn't I?" Answered Martin.

This was the start of a life-long friendship between the two men. Through Chris, Martin formed other relationships – not friendships. Those were few and far between. He gained a reputation for being a demanding but excellent tutor. He was happy for the first time in his life since he had stopped going to the farm. Martin didn't suffer fools at any time and was often rude. After one disastrous attempt, Chris never tried to apologize for or explain his friend's behavior again. "I didn't ask Chris to apologize for me. I meant what I said – you're wasting your time and everyone else's by taking this class. You're out of your depth and would be better off taking face painting." Instead of slapping Martin's face, the girl turned on Chris and punched his nose.

Chris understood Martin's behavior better after he spent a very uncomfortable afternoon when Martin's parents came to the city on a business trip. For appearances sake only, they surprised Martin with a visit. They treated Martin with disdain and him with amused contempt. The difference in Martin was astounding. Instead of the arrogant, confident man he knew, he saw a nervous, withdrawn and defensive boy instead. And his awful mother seemed to revel in making him worse with cruel remarks like, "Martin, I think your ears have actually gotten bigger!" and "Have you found _any_ girl desperate enough to attend our party with you next week? No, I thought not. Just don't bother to come. You'd embarrass us anyway." And his father would chime in with comments like, "A trophy for playing chess? My god! You should be getting one for playing football but I bet no one wants you on their team." But his mother made the worst and most humiliating remarks of all. "Are you still wetting the bed, Martin? Did you know, what's your name again? Chris? Well, did you know that Martin was a legendary bed wetter? Just in case you were thinking about it, don't join him in bed. You'll regret it." Martin blushed and glared at his tormentor. Chris stared at her in open-mouthed fury and his father just laughed. No wonder Martin acted the way that he did! Ghastly parents!

After the visit, Chris tried to think of something to say to alleviate Martin's embarrassment. What could anyone say except, "Martin, if you don't mind my saying so, your parents are regular shites! You deserve better and, if they show up again, let's leave by the back door and avoid the most boorish and boring two people I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Come on, we'll be late for class." And that was the only thing said about the visit. But Chris was more tolerant of Martin's stand-offish and rude behavior in the future.

When Martin started going around with Edith, Chris didn't like or trust her and was ready to step in when she dumped Martin and went to Canada for 'too good an opportunity to miss'. He invited his friend to stay with him and his noisy, active family for a long week-end and they welcomed him with open arms. Chris had told them privately how Martin had helped him and they repaid him with all the warmth they were capable of. Especially the younger sisters! Martin actually played football with Chris and his younger brothers and was quite good at it. It was fun when nobody yelled at or made fun of him as they had done when he was a lonely, sad child in public school. To the delight of Chris's father who loved music, he played favorite tunes on their old upright and slightly out of tune piano and Mr. Parsons sang along, equally out of tune. Edith was quickly becoming a distant memory.

That was the first of many holidays that he spent with them. Being actually liked and welcomed by these wonderful people was a tonic for his ego after being battered all his life by his father and mother. He helped keep the garden neat and with the house work and, to Mrs. Parson's delight, the cooking. As a matter of fact, the only other place he had ever felt as welcome was with Uncle Phil and Aunty Joan even though he slept on a pallet on the floor of Chris's bedroom. Usually worn out from all the activity, he slept like a baby.

Martin finished at the top of his class and Chris was second. Chris found that administration was where he was most comfortable and Martin was the top vascular surgeon in London's premier hospital. Chris repaid the loan, plus interest, and heartily approved when Martin gave the money to a hospice for children.


End file.
